


Two Demons & A Heretic

by PolyPairings



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asexual Master Chief, Asexual Reader, Asexual Relationship, Master Chief is canonically asexual, Multi, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolyPairings/pseuds/PolyPairings
Summary: A polyamorous asexual reader insert that takes place between Halo 3 and 4.





	1. (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this story, the Covenant haven’t made it to Earth yet or discovered the location of the Forerunner artifact. The time between Master Chief crash-landing on Earth and the activation of the artifact has been extended, and humanity is fighting to keep the Covenant away from Earth. The Flood-infested ship did crash on Earth, and the Elites destroyed them, forging an alliance with humanity. Cortana was on that ship, instead of a message. For now, Arbiter and Chief are on an unnamed ship captained by Miranda Keyes, fighting against the Covenant and trying to keep them away from Earth.

When The Arbiter wakes up from his slumber, he is surprised to see Cortana present in his quarters. She starts speaking before he can ask any questions. 

“Good, you’re awake. You’re needed down in the Briefing Room as soon as you’re able. It’s important. Cortana, out.”

She’s gone in less than a second and the Arbiter blinks in surprise. Cortana has never awoken him before, and regardless, he thought the Demon had taken her with him when he left for his mission last night. 

He puts his armor on in record time, his muscle memory taking over as he ponders what could be so important. He was out of his door and marching down the hallway before he shook himself out of his thoughts. He ignored the whispers and stares he got from the marines he passed, as he was used to it. He had saved many of these men’s lives and they still treated him with suspicion at the least. He stopped thinking about it and focused on his mission instead. 

There was a map pulled up on the hologram table already, and Cortana was adding a message onto the screen. He nodded at Sergeant Johnson waiting impatiently by the side of the hologram table. Noting the Arbiter’s arrival, Cortana began speaking to him and the marines behind him. 

“Before Master Chief left for his mission, I picked up some highly encrypted communication coming from this base on the planet below us.” She gestured at the map, which zoomed in to show a facility with Covenant architecture amidst a forest. 

“The message was a report for a very important weapon, and they seemed to imply it was almost finished. Your job is to storm the facility and plug me into a terminal. I’ll locate any information on the weapon that I can, and if it’s still in the facility, you will either steal it or destroy it, depending on what it is.”

The Sergeant nodded. “Thank you, Cortana. Now, I don’t want to hear any bellyaching about waiting for the Master Chief, this is a time sensitive mission. Arbiter will be accompanying you since there is likely to be many Covenant guarding the place. You will meet at your assigned Pelican as soon as you’re suited up.”

Sergeant Johnson nodded one more time at the room at large before taking his leave. The Arbiter could feel the marines watching him, and left the room before the whispers would start. He was the first one waiting in the Pelican despite having to install Cortana on a data pad. His did not have a neural implant for her use like the Demon did. He pulled up a map of the facility on the data pad while the last of the marines boarded and the Pelican dropped towards the planet below. 

————————————————

The Arbiter still hadn’t spoken a word to the marines since landing and making their way through the forest, and he wasn’t planning to. He used hand signals to direct them, or had Cortana do it. As they observed the facility from their vantage point, Cortana finished her head count of the guards outside. They were trying for a quiet insertion, to prevent the facility going on lockdown before they managed to get in. 

With a few more hand signals, the marines split into two groups, each going to the sides of the building. As soon as he gave the mark, they were to kill the guards with their silenced weapons. Arbiter drew his plasma sword and activated it. As he began to charge, the marines followed suit. 

The assault went smoothly, and they were able to sneak into the facility without triggering any alarms. The marines bashed in the skulls of the sleeping Grunts lining the entryway and split into teams of four to spread through the facility to eliminate and search for enemies. The Arbiter kept a platoon of four with himself and led them deeper into the building where the research lab would be. 

The large number of guards lining the cramped halls served the chaos of their path. Many tripped over each other and some accidentally shot others. There were only Kig-Yar and Unggoy so far, which made the Arbiter apprehensive. Cortana had said this was an incredibly valuable weapons research facility. So far the reception was lacking in strength. 

The Arbiter held up a hand to halt as they reached the research lab. The echoing of gunfire in the halls showed that the other marines were taking care of the other occupants of the facility. Finding the door to the lab locked, the Arbiter drew his plasma sword again and slashed it apart. Aliens of a species he did not recognize screeched and fled to the corners of the room, away from the object in the center of it. No, not object. It was a sentient being, seemingly a female human, strapped to a table with metal restraints. Familiar and unfamiliar tools surrounded her. Her hair was buzzed short, and she was wearing a thin shirt and pants, her feet bare. What bits of her arms he could see had long lines of scars down them. 

“What the fuck,” he heard a marine utter behind him. Arbiter agreed. Some of those tools were familiar because they were used on him when he was tortured. He looked you over for a second, checking for any wounds. Upon seeing only minor ones, he gave a hand signal to go ahead, and the marines mowed down the alien scientists around the room with no mercy. The marine’s expressions showed disgust, hatred, and pity. The Arbiter approached a console and plugged Cortana in. 

She manifested on the screen and looked at the table in concern. “There’s no way that message could’ve been wrong, yet this is the only major research lab in the building, and there doesn’t seem to be a weapon here. All of the data I’m finding about it is encrypted, so I’m going to download it and decode it later.”

The marines looked at each other warily, and no one moved towards the form on the table. “What about the lady, Cortana? She looks human,” one of them asked. 

Cortana paused, then answered “Yank me and take her. Consider this a rescue mission from this point forward.”

The Arbiter put Cortana’s chip back in the data pad and approached the table slowly, watching the human female. Her eyes were closed tightly, and looked as though she were bracing herself. He drew his plasma sword again, and she flinched at the sound. He paused at that, and when she made no other move he slashed the restraints off. Her eyes snapped open and she looked at him, flinching again at his closeness. She was off the table and against the wall at the other side of the room in an instant. Her eyes were full of distrust, and her face was hard. She didn’t say a word. 

After a minute of silence, a marine, one of the younger ones, lowered his weapon and put it on the floor. He walked slowly and carefully over to her, making sure she could see his hands at all times. He looked as though he were approaching a cornered animal. He stopped several feet in front of her, still holding his hands up in surrender. “We’re the good guys, see? We can take you out of here and off this planet.” She hesitated, then slowly nodded. He lowered his arms with a grin, and turned back to the others. “Let’s roll out, marines.”

Another one scoffed. “That was lame, dude. You just had to ruin it.” With some nervous snickers, the team started filing out the door. Seeming slightly more at ease, the woman stepped closer, but waited for the Arbiter to step through before she followed. She would not have her back to him. That seemed telling. 

They reconvened with the other marine teams on the way to the door, and they gawked at the woman. She kept herself away from them, but still followed. As they got closer to the door, Arbiter saw the telltale ripples of an Active Camouflage in front of it. He shoved past the marines, ignoring their protests and opened fire with his Carbine. When that treacherous Sangheili died, he turned to his left and saw the second one too late.

The glowing blue of the energy sword it held gave it away, which was raised to strike. As the Arbiter activated and raised his own to attempt to block in time, the woman suddenly appeared in front of him and punched it in the face. He heard it impact the wall at the end of the hall before the camouflage broke and it slumped over, dazed. She shook out her bruised hand and grabbed a plasma grenade from his side before throwing it down the hall. It exploded and there were squeals and alien curses from around the corner. 

The marines shook out of their stupor at the sound of more of the Covenant coming up from the lower levels and began streaming out the door. The woman pointed down the next hall and the Arbiter threw another grenade. They turned and started running together before it exploded. She ran through the woods beside them in bare feet without complaint or even panting. When she saw the Pelican she paused for a second before boarding it with the other marines.  
The Arbiter plugged Cortana into the pilot’s console and shut the Pelican’s ramp before the lasers of the chasing Covenant could get in. The ground shuddered as they lifted off, and Cortana fired at the facility with the jet’s guns until it exploded. With the mission complete, she piloted a course for the ship. 

The woman sat up front in the copilot’s seat and still didn’t say a word. She was silent when they left the atmosphere, and she stayed in her seat even after the Pelican landed back aboard the space cruiser. Cortana told everyone to disembark and to stay out of the way of the medical teams that were coming. She told the Arbiter to go, and that she’d send both him and the Chief the debrief report. The Arbiter complied, knowing that he’d know what he needed to know eventually.


	2. (1.5) Debriefing Report (CONFIDENTIAL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the briefing report that Chief and Arbiter will get. It details why you were in Covenant custody, your abilities, and how you got them.

Mission #: 41593726043  
Purpose: Investigation and possible recovery of valuable Covenant weapon  
Mission Status: Success

AI Cortana intercepted encrypted message from Covenant Facility #34856379 detailing an unknown weapon nearing completion in facility. Strike team led by the Arbiter razed base to find and steal or destroy weapon. Unencrypted data taken from the facility now confirm specs of weapon. Weapon is a human female, 23 years of age, last survivor of Colony #[REDACTED] on Planet [REDACTED]. Weapon Identity [REDACTED]. Weapon will here on be designated THE AGENT. Interview with AGENT and data from facility detail AGENT’S story. AGENT was attending the University of [REDACTED] on the date of [REDACTED]. Covenant attacked Planet [REDACTED] and released assumed bioweapon. Bioweapon came in gaseous form and coated entire planet. The AGENT was one of 13 survivors. Survivors were abducted by Covenant and Planet [REDACTED] was glassed. AGENT reports that all were put through harsh training and augmentation, and she is the only survivor. Data collected from Covenant Facility indicates Covenant High Command was attempting to mimic the augmentations of Dr. Halsey of the SPARTAN-II program. AGENT’s DNA contains the proper genetic markers. It is hypothesized that the bioweapon eliminated all of the population of Planet [REDACTED] missing those traits. Further unencrypted data indicated Covenant High Command was attempting to create a super-soldier human slave to work as Propaganda and combat the attention and fear the Arbiter gained by defecting. AGENT admits that she was to be brainwashed or tortured into obedience on the day of mission. AGENT details being trained in hand-to-hand combat and weapons before undergoing augmentation. Process took approximately one and a half years to near completion. Evidence found in lab indicates presence of blood samples from Master Chief Petty Officer SIERRA-117 and unknown humans lacking genetic markers. This evidence explains how Covenant knew about genetic markers used in SPARTAN-II program and formation of bioweapon. AGENT submitted to mental and physical evaluation. AGENT is underweight. AGENT appears to have a mild case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. AGENT appears to have undergone approximately the same modifications and augmentations as the SPARTAN-IIs. How the Covenant knew about and was able to replicate these surgeries is currently unknown. At this time in the testing stage, AGENT has LESS strength than resident SPARTAN SIERRA-117. AGENT has MORE agility than resident SPARTAN SIERRA-117. AGENT has EQUAL speed to resident SPARTAN SIERRA-117. We will be appointing Master Chief Petty Officer/Resident SPARTAN SIERRA-117 to training and testing AGENT.

[FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Halo Legends: The Package, it is shown that the Covenant had abducted Dr. Halsey for an unknown length of time. For this story, I’m going to say that the Covenant was able to do a memory scan on Halsey and record all of the details of the SPARTAN-II program. That’s how they were able to replicate the experiments on you.


	3. (2)

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 was surprised to find a classified document in his hands almost the moment he returned from his mission. His orders were to skip debrief for his previous mission and report immediately to a specified meeting room. Master Chief read while he walked, unsure what to make of it. He knew it wasn’t impossible for the Covenant to find a sample of his blood from where he would’ve been injured in battle, but he had never expected it could be used to form a bioweapon. 

According to the extra notes on the bottom, this ‘Agent’ was currently in observation while it was decided what to do with her. Master Chief assumed that was going to be the topic of this meeting. 

Master Chief slowed his march upon seeing the packed halls nearest to the meeting room. He could overhear conversations about this ‘Agent’. He listened in as he passed. 

“Do ya think they’re going to keep this new super-soldier?” A marine with dark brown hair was talking to two others. 

“Man, I hope so. I heard she punched a Covenant Elite so hard it died, boom! Just like that!” The one with the blonde hair sounded ecstatic. 

Master Chief frowned. That was not in the report, although the tale was likely exaggerated. He supposed he would find out if it were true if he agreed to train her. The muttering quieted as the Chief passed, the marines looking at him reverently. He ignored them all and made it to the meeting room. Seeing as he was the last one expected, he made sure to secure the door so no one could eavesdrop. 

Commander Keyes was there, as well as the Arbiter and several upper staff. Master Chief saluted, and stood next to Arbiter, both of them knowing the chairs wouldn’t support them well in their armor. 

Commander Keyes cleared her throat. “Now that everyone is here, let’s begin.”

————————————————  
The meeting was long and arduous, with repetitive arguments and ranks being thrown about. Master Chief had crossed him arms and leaned closer to Arbiter after the first few minutes, and they were still standing silent. The Sangheili looked irritated and Chief couldn’t blame him. This was basically a pissing contest. Everyone in this room knew they needed all the help they could get. And when a pseudo-Spartan was practically handed to them, their best course of action would be putting her to use. 

Eventually Commander Keyes grew fed up with the time wasting and power plays and interrupted. “Gentlemen, please. We all know that while this seems too good to be true, the Agent has been vetted by all of our mental and physical tests. She has expressed a wish to fight against the Covenant with us, and her PTSD isn’t anything new, especially since it hasn’t affected any of her tests or capabilities thus far.”

A Corporal raised his hand to interject, “Commander Keyes, if she is going to be joining our ranks, why does she not have a proper title?” 

That was not along the lines of the questions Chief thought they would be asking the Commander. He wasn’t expecting someone to be asking about her rank when she hadn’t even been processed yet. 

Commander Keyes folded her hands together. “The Agent was a civilian before her abduction, and she still is in technicality. The only way she can be allowed to work under the UNSC is if we hired her as a free agent, or went through the long process of entering her into service. The latter could potentially take years of training and medical tests, which we simply do not have the time for.” She waited to let that sink in, then looked over to Master Chief and the Arbiter. The Chief stood to attention. “Chief, would you be so kind as to tell us your thoughts?”

Master Chief remained at attention. “I have heard about an incident that was not mentioned in the report regarding her abilities in battle. The marines believe she killed an Elite without a weapon. Is this true?” He looked expectantly about the room, but all he got was blank faces. 

“I can attest to that.” Master Chief turned his attention to the Arbiter, who was now also standing at attention. “We were ambushed by several traitorous Sangheili still loyal to the Covenant whilst trying to leave the facility. I killed one of the betrayers, but the second closest to me had drawn his energy sword before I saw him. I was raising my own to block when this ‘Agent’ stepped in front of me and punched him with enough force to throw him down the hallway. She did not kill him with her punch, but rather used one of my grenades to kill him and some of the Covenant further up the hall. I believe she shows promise.”

Master Chief nodded, thinking it over. “Very well. If I pass her, she will see active duty, but if she is lacking, she must be trained before she is of any use to us.”

There were several nods and murmurs of agreement, and the meeting was ended. 

————————————————

Master Chief was pleased that you arrived on time for your first training session a week later. You were shorter than him by about seven inches while he was standing at seven feet tall in his suit. He assumed that height was one of your modifications. Your hair was buzzed short, and you wore long sleeves and pants. You eyed him warily as he sized you up. The Arbiter had told him that you hadn’t spoken a word while you were rescued, and he knew the shrinks had kept you in their care for a several days.

“...So you’re the ‘resident Spartan’ I heard about?” You were quiet, but at least you were talking. He nodded, and you eye each other some more. “Do I have to salute and call you sir?” You asked this dubiously and Chief had a feeling you wouldn’t even if he said yes. 

He shook his head. “Commander Keyes informed us you were to be counted as a civilian contractor working for us. You don’t have to follow the same protocol as someone enlisted with the UNSC.” You’re still looking at him like you expect him to either attack you or snap at you. He recognizes the sentiment, and knows you’ll adjust sooner if you have work to do, so he just waves you over to the machines. 

He does nothing but test you for the first session, trying to get a feel for your limits. He tests your speed, strength, stamina, and agility. You seem to be in perfect shape, if not a bit undernourished. The Covenant likely didn’t know how to regulate a human diet properly. He takes you over to the shooting range and arsenal side of the room and tells you to demonstrate each weapon you know how to fire. You’ve been quiet since your brief introduction, but you eventually feel comfortable enough to ask questions. 

You ask him about the abilities being a Spartan gives him, and how they compare to yours. You ask about his armor, and what benefits it has. You’ve treated him with respect so far, but nothing even close to the reverence most of the marines treat him with. When there’s silence for a while again, the Chief asks a question that’s been on his mind. 

“Have you heard of me?” He isn’t being full of himself, just curious. Every new recruit they’ve ever had has gushed over him and how ‘honored’ they were to meet him. People still treated him like he was a messiah, instead of a man who’s been trained to do a job and does it. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Yes,” you said simply. All of the colonies had heard of the Master Chief, you knew what he was expecting from you. But you registered his curiosity and tried to read deeper into his question. You put down the gun you were holding and started to slowly speak as you thought out your words. 

“I know how you were expecting me to react, but don’t worry. I don’t put you on a pedestal or anything. I just recognize that you’re very good at your job, and you enjoy being good at it. You’re just doing what you’re trained to do.”

Master Chief stays silent and watches as you turn back to the job at hand. That sentiment is exactly what he and the other Spartans in his generation feel. Not many people understand it. After you finished demonstrating the last weapon you knew, you turned to him, thoughtful. 

“You gave me hope, you know. When I was imprisoned.”

Master Chief blinked. You’ve been quiet and impersonal so far, and he was not expecting you to speak about your imprisonment. He feels apprehensive, but doesn’t make a move to stop you. 

“They kept telling me to stop fighting and just obey, and sometimes I’d feel like I should just give up. But then I’d hear someone complain about you, the ‘Great Demon’, and how you and humanity kept fighting back against them. So I’d think maybe I should keep fighting the good fight and not screw over humanity.” You close your eyes and sigh, seeming tired. “Thanks,” you end. 

You didn’t expect him to say anything, having already observed how he preferred to be quiet. Instead, you ask what the next task is. He shakes his head and waves a hand to signify you’re done for the day. As he turns around with you, he sees you flinch as you notice Arbiter by the door. You still hadn’t gotten used to an alien not trying to hurt you. 

Arbiter seemed to understand this, and he slides farther away from the door as you got nearer. You give him a very brief, grateful look as you pass him. Chief and the Arbiter watch you go, each thinking. Then, Arbiter turns to Chief to speak.


	4. (2.5)

“What do you think?” Arbiter asked. 

“She’ll do,” Chief says. “She’s surprisingly well-adjusted for someone who was rescued only a week ago. Her abilities are almost identical to those of a Spartan’s. The Covenant mimicked the augmentations well.”

The Arbiter tilted his head. “I am not familiar with any demons other than yourself. I do not believe she is fully recovered, however. She still flinches from the sight of me as though she expects me to attack.” He tilted his head the other way. “Did you get to test her combat skills?”

Master Chief shook his head no. He knew that to do that, he’d have to take his armor off so he didn’t crush you. He wasn’t comfortable taking his armor off; it was a second skin to him, he felt vulnerable every time he took it off. 

And there was the matter of you not trusting one of your allies. If you were going to be working with them, you needed to be used to Arbiter. An idea came to him. “What if you did her combat training? It would give her a chance to get used to you,” he addressed Arbiter. 

The Arbiter looked confused. “Did you not hear me, Demon? She expects me to attack her at any moment, what good would my being her combat instructor do than enforce that?”

Master Chief held up his hand, “She seems to recognize body language very well. If you were to be her sparring instructor, she would most likely notice you holding back to not hurt her.”

The Arbiter moved his mandibles, thinking. “Very well, I shall help with her training. You are very perceptive, Demon.”

Master Chief stayed silent, eyeing him. “Does it bother you? That she flinches from you?” He has noticed the way the marines react to him. He’s seen them whisper and and give Arbiter dirty looks, but they don’t do it as often while he’s around, so he’s never known what they say. Why had he never realized how much things like these could bother Arbiter?

Arbiter looks surprised that Chief noticed, then nods. “You are my allies. I know the contempt I receive from the marines is less directed towards me than it is to the Covenant. But it was I who rescued the Agent, and she fought alongside me. To flinch from my presence even knowing I am an ally...it is worrisome.”

Chief stayed silent for a few minutes. The Arbiter was used to his silent thinking and waited patiently. 

“We will try this out,” Chief decided. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll have no choice than to send her back to the shrinks until she is ready. I’ll tell her before the next session.”

After processing his words, Arbiter gave Chief a look of appreciation. He had not seen the Demon as the type to be so perceptive of emotions. “Thank you, Demon. Are you available to spar?”


	5. (3)

Master Chief was waiting by the wall in the mess hall for you to show up. He was going to tell you the new plan for your training, as he’d promised Arbiter. It had been a few days since your first training session, and Cortana had told him the schedule you had developed. You’d get breakfast as early as possible, then spend the day alternating between you quarters, the training room, or exploring the ship. 

Cortana was right, unsurprisingly. You scanned the room from the doorway before stepping inside. He waited until you’d gotten your food and moved to a table in the corner before approaching you. You eyed him curiously as he sat down across from you, making the bench creak. When he didn’t say anything, you began eating.

He watched you for another minute or two before commenting, “You should be eating more.”

You eyed him in surprise and put your utensil down. “This is the same amount I’ve been eating since the Covenant had me.”

He nodded. “Exactly. You’re undernourished because the Covenant fed you so little. We need to bring your weight up.”

You squinted at him, trying to tell if he was being serious. “I don’t know how to go about doing that.”

He drew out a data pad from his waist and typed on it for a few seconds before putting it away again. “I sent Cortana a message to help you with that.” He gestured at you to continue eating. 

“That’s not why you’re here,” you observed, following his order. 

“No,” he said. “I’m here to inform you the Arbiter will be in charge of your combat training, and to make sure there’s no issue with that.”

He saw you stiffen and waited for you to reply. You slowly shook your head. “I don’t think it will be.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “That’s not what your body language has been telling me when you interact. You were hurt by the Elites at the facility,” he said bluntly. 

You sighed and replied simply. “Yes, I was. They were the ones who did my combat training. If you can call it that,” you scoffed with your last sentence and put your utensil down again, crossing your arms. 

“What did your training entail?” He didn’t like digging into other’s personal matters, but he had to know how well trained you were. 

“They would lock me in a room with one or more, and have them attack. They wouldn’t hold back. Either I learned to fight or I was beaten.” Chief filed the information away to tell Arbiter later. He uncrossed his arms and leaned them on the table. 

“That won’t happen to you here. You will be allowed to take a break any time you wish, and the Arbiter will not use his full strength until you are comfortable. You have my word.” You uncrossed your own arms and slouched a little, looking reassured. 

Chief stood up, the bench creaking under his suit’s weight again. “You are to set up a meal plan with Cortana before you come to training today. See you then.” He turned to leave the mess. He knew you’d need time to process what he told you and prepare yourself mentally, and you’d need to be alone to do that. 

“Chief!” You called after him. He turned and you stood up and across from him. You looked uncomfortable. “Thanks. For, uh, caring.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. He had thought your habit of thanking people for treating you decently odd, until Cortana had reminded him how the Covenant had likely treated you. You were thankful to not be treated as an object, a weapon. You twitched your hand in a sort of goodbye, still looking anxious, and made your way back to your table. Master Chief waited to make sure you started eating again before leaving the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cortana is plugged into the ship when not plugged into Master Chief.


	6. (3.5)

The Arbiter was waiting for Master Chief in the training room when he arrived. He’d had Cortana let him know about the updated time for your training session and had requested they meet beforehand. 

Arbiter bowed his head slightly as Chief approached. “Greetings, Demon.” Chief bowed his head back. Recently they had started talking more, and since Chief had asked how Arbiter felt onboard with everyone he’d been treated with more respect. “I trust you have spoken with the Agent.”

Chief stood in front of him and looked up at Arbiter. “Yes. I’m positive she’ll be trained in defense, but we’ll need to check her offensive skills.”

The Arbiter expressed surprise at the imbalance. “The Covenant would have wanted a fully-trained Warrior. Why do you suspect she knows mainly defense?” After a few seconds of thinking he added, “It has something to do with the way she flinches at my presence.”

That last sentence was phrased like a question, but Arbiter said it more as a statement. Chief frowned in his helmet. “Yes. She said she was attacked by Elites at least, though I’m assuming she fought other species as well. There was no formal training. She fought to survive, not learn.”

Arbiter clenched a fist at his side. “That is no way to learn combat. We Sangheili are trained better than that, they should have known better.” His tone was tense, and he felt a satisfaction that you were able to kill one of the Sangheili that did this to you in the hallways of the facility. “Is she still afraid of me?”

Chief shrugged, “I wouldn’t call it afraid, exactly. If she were truly afraid, she would have attacked you out of reflex by now. I assured her that you won’t use your full strength until she is comfortable. Can I trust you to do that?”

“Yes, Demon,” Arbiter stated firmly. “If she is to be our ally, I shall treat her as such.” They still had an hour until your training, and Chief assumed Arbiter would leave after this conversation, but he was surprised. 

“I wish to learn more about human culture,” Arbiter declared. Chief raised his eyebrows, but tilted his head in acknowledgment. It had been weeks since the Arbiter stopped insulting him, and they had begun communicating regularly, but Arbiter had never asked about human culture before. 

“What would you like to know?” He felt somewhat apprehensive. 

“I have seen a food item quite often in the mess hall I would like to know about. What is a ‘hamburger’?” His pronunciation of the word was off, but Chief knew what he meant. This was going to be an interesting conversation.


	7. (4)

When you arrived at the training room several hours after your conversation with Chief, he and Arbiter were already waiting. Arbiter was standing in the boxing ring and Chief was standing over to the side. 

You had prepared yourself for this, but you still hesitated when you saw Arbiter. Chief gestured for you to get in the ring, and you complied. “The first thing we’re going to do is test your defense. Arbiter is going to come at you and you’re going to show us how well you block, dodge, and redirect. Say something if you need a break. Begin.”

You got in a fighting stance, and Arbiter came at you. He was moving slower than you were used to Elites moving, and you realized Chief had kept his word. You dodged under his swipe and spun around him. He turned and threw a fist at you, which you swiped to the side and grabbed his arm, yanking him towards you and making him stumble. You spun behind him again, and stopped short when is leg swung back to hit you. You waited until he was turning on his other leg to kick it, making him falter. He aimed a punch at you again, and you sidestepped and grabbed it, pulling him towards you then stepping out of the way. He grabbed your elbow as he fell, and yanked you down with him. You broke his hold then rolled to the side and were back onto your feet before he was. 

You continued your dance of combat until you were slightly panting, and Chief held up his hand for you to stop. “You’ve been repeating your moves. I’d say we’ve seen all you can do in defense. Do you need a break?”

You shook your head and wiped some sweat from your forehead. “I’m fine to continue.” You got into your stance and looked at Master Chief. 

“You’re going to attack Arbiter first, and this time show us how you’d retaliate against his strikes, rather than than deflect or dodge. You may take a break whenever you need. Begin.”

You and Arbiter circled each other, then you crouched down and spun a kick to swipe at his legs. He dodged, then kicked, aiming for your chest. You smacked his leg down and ducked under his next grab to jab him in between his armor plates. He grabbed your elbow as you were backing out of his space and went to swing you against the side of the ring. You twisted your arms to grab his, and used his own momentum to swing him into the ropes at the side instead. His grip loosened on impact and you broke it, turning away from him to do a backwards kick. 

The Elite grabs your neck as you turn, and you can almost feel his triumph. The other one that should be in the room behind you must be watching as you’re pulled back towards him. Your breath wheezes out, and you push yourself backwards, bending his hand at an awkward angle. The other one was waiting on the sidelines for now, but if he manages to catch you he would step up to beat you as he held you in place. You brought your elbow around into his gut as hard as you could, then punched him directly in the face. As you turned, you grabbed the shoulder of the arm without the injured hand and roared as you threw him across the room. You were on him in a second, kneeling on his gut and aiming punches at his face, which he kept blocking. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed three ropes parallel to each other in a line. That wasn’t right. There were no ropes in the fighting chamber. As you brought your fist back to aim at the Elite’s face again, you felt one of the other two grab you. He grabbed both your arms and pulled you off, holding you against him with his arms across your chest and pining your arms to the side. You struggled wildly, waiting for the other one to get up and start punching you to earn back his wounded pride. But he didn’t. 

He sat up and leaned against the ropes behind him and stared at you while holding his hands up in surrender. It was a trick, it had to be. You kept struggling, trying to pull the other Elite’s hands off you, but his five fingers were locked in place. Five. Five fingers, not four. 

You lessened your struggles and looked around, not recognizing the room you were in. It wasn’t the fighting chambers, but you still didn’t recognize it. The thing holding you slowly put you down and let go of you after you stopped struggling. You look at it and are suddenly face-to-face with The Demon. What was he doing here?

You hear a noise behind you and whirled around, expecting to be attacked again. The Elite was kneeling on one leg, arms at his side. “Do you know where you are?” 

Your mind is telling you you’re in the fighting chambers in the facility, but you don’t recognize your surroundings. Where are you? “No,” you say. 

The Demon, no, the Master Chief is now standing at the Elite’s side and looking at you carefully. “You’re in the training room of a UNSC ship,” he informs you. 

The Arbiter shifts again, bringing your eyes back to him. “Do you know who you are?” 

You answer slowly, confused. “My designation is Subject 13, Agent for the Destruction of Humanity.” You pause. That sounds wrong. 

The Elite shakes his head. “No, you are known as the Agent, and I was part of the strike team that rescued you from the facility. You’re safe.” You’re beginning to remember. You were rescued two weeks ago. He’s the Arbiter, and he and the Master Chief are allies. You just punched the Arbiter in the face. A lot. You're glad that only your initial punch landed, and not any of the others. 

You swallow, and your throat is dry. “I’m sorry,” you say. You feel shame squeezing your chest, leaving an icky feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.” 

The Arbiter stands. “I know. And you don’t need to be afraid of those Sangheili betrayers anymore. I killed one, and you blew up the other with a plasma grenade. They’re dead, and you’re safe.” You look down, and he carefully places himself across from you. “You’re safe,” he says again. 

You exhale shakily. “Did I fail?”

“Only a little,” says Master Chief. The Arbiter shoots him a look and he holds a hand up. “Your combat skills are perfectly fine, but I’m not going to pass you until that,” he gestures vaguely to indicate the situation, “doesn’t happen again. We need to be sure that if you do go berserk on the battle field, you’ll be able to recognize your allies.”

You nod in understanding, chewing on your lip. Chief stays silent for a moment before deciding you’re done for the day and dismissing you. You leave as swiftly as you can without running. 

————————————————

You make your way to a spot you discovered the other day. It’s a window that shows the stars outside with a ledge big enough for you to sit on. You’d asked Cortana how trafficked the hallway it’s in was, and when she told you no one came down here, you’d claimed it as your own. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been staring at the stars when you hear footsteps. You turn in surprise to see the Arbiter coming towards you. You look back to stars and sigh. He stands next to you at the window for a while before speaking. “Would it be helpful for you if I spent time near you?”

You glance up at him warily. “How do you mean?” 

“For you to get used to being around me, and not see me as an enemy.” He still looks at the stars as he speaks. 

You think about it for a while, and he stands and waits patiently for your answer. “I think that would be helpful, yes.” He nods in acknowledgement and continues looking at the stars. You go back to looking at them and enjoy a comfortable silence. 

“How did you find me?” you eventually ask. 

He smiles, but still doesn’t look at you. “Cortana,” he simply says. 

You gasp in indignation and mutter “traitor,” under your breath. He chuckles, and you relax and watch the stars together.


	8. (5)

After you and Arbiter’s conversation, you decided to eat meals together as well, when you can. You’ve been eating and training together for three months by now, and you’ve gotten used to his presence. You haven’t had a flashback for at least a month. 

Arbiter seems equally fascinated by the way you eat as you are by the way he does. He opens his mandibles and swallows small things whole, and tears larger things into chunks before swallowing them whole too. He still seems slightly incredulous sometimes, even though you can’t even count the number of times he’s seen you eat. 

“Do you have to chew everything? You didn’t need to chew the ‘broth’ you had yesterday,” he asks as he watches you eat your sandwich. 

“We only have to chew solid food. That was liquid food,” you dismiss. You’d be annoyed by him always watching you eat, but you watch him as well, so you can’t complain. He’d admitted to you the first time that he’d only taken meals in his quarters before, since the marines aren’t very welcoming, so you’ve been sticking to your schedule of eating when there’s the least amount of people in the mess hall. 

Master Chief had taken to joining you both about two and a half months ago, when you realized he wouldn’t join you without an invitation and asked him. He seems to enjoy your company, even if he never actually eats. You’ve never seen him without his helmet before, and Cortana told you he always eats in his quarters when you’d asked. He sits in a different place each time, to keep the benches from sagging too low in one area from his weight. He told you he weighs about a thousand pounds in his suit, so it makes sense. He’s sitting to your left today. 

Arbiter takes a break from watching you to finish the last of his food. He opens his mandibles before shoving the food in place and swallowing. 

He reminds you of an animal that you’ve heard of but never seen, since there weren’t any on your colony. You snap your fingers as you remember the name. “A snake! That’s what you remind me of!” You lean back triumphantly. You look at Chief, “right?”

He nods, and watches Arbiter finish eating with you. “Sangheili are saurian, reptilian in nature,” he notes quietly. 

Arbiter mimics raising an eyebrow. “What is a snake?” 

You ponder how best to describe them. You’ve only ever seen pictures. “They’re like...living noodles with scales and fangs that are sometimes venomous.” 

He pauses. He has heard that word before. “Noodles...so they are a food. Do you eat them living or dead?” 

You scrunch up your nose and can practically feel Chief smirking. “They’re not food,” you say as you make an ‘ew’ face. 

“Some cultures eat them,” Chief corrects you, amused at your face. “I’ve heard they taste like chicken.” 

You look even more disgusted, and you glare at first Chief, then at Arbiter as he laughs at you. “You guys are gross,” you proclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. Chief just shrugs, and Arbiter chuckles. 

You sigh and stand up. You grab both you and Arbiter’s empty trays before dumping them and turning around. “Ready for training?” Instead of nodding, Chief stills. 

“About that...” You glance at Chief expectantly as he and Arbiter stand, waiting for him to finish. “We’re going to visit the techs today.”

You furrow your brows, “Why? Do they want to run more tests?” 

Chief shakes his head. “You’ll see.” You give Arbiter a hopeful look, but he just keeps a smug and knowing silence. You walk behind them on your way, hoping to figure out why you’re going there. 

When you arrive, there are techs waiting and Cortana is manifested in the room. Arbiter and Chief step back and wait at the side of the room while the techs begin measuring you. “What’s going on?” Your question is directed at Cortana, and she gestures at Chief. 

“You’ve been cleared for active duty by Chief. We need to double check your measurements to finish building you your own suit.” She is recording the measurements the techs are giving her as she talks. 

You give a quick glare to Chief before you’re made to face forward again for measurements. He could have told you he passed you. Cortana begins explaining the specs of the suit. 

“You will be outfitted with MJOLNIR Mark VI Gen 1 armor. The suit is a completely sealed system, capable for use in any environment, including lack of atmosphere. It is hardened against EMP and radiation, and is able to disperse a limited amount of Covenant energy strikes. There’s a gel layer that regulates body temperature and reactively changes density. The Neural Interface we implanted in you not long after you arrived will connect with the suit so you can control it. There’s a layer of reactive metal liquid crystal in it, which will increase your strength and double lifting capabilities, and boost reaction time by a factor of five. The only reason you can safely wear this suit is because the augmentations the Covenant did to you are so similar to those of the Spartan-IIs.”

“You’re sure I can wear it safely?” The techs were done taking measurements, and you were intimidated by all the information. 

Cortana smiles at you. “As long as you don’t salute hard enough to give yourself a concussion,” she teases, looking over towards Chief. 

You turn and look as well, beginning to grin. “You didn’t,” you say to him. 

“No,” Chief says. 

“He did,” Cortana says, smirking. 

Arbiter is looking at Chief too, grinning in his alien way. “I was not aware of this.”

“Thank you, Cortana,” Chief says sarcastically. 

“You’re welcome,” she replies cheerily. She turns back to you. “Your first mission will be in three days. Your armor should be ready by then, since we started making it after you volunteered to fight the Covenant when you first arrived. You, Arbiter, and Master Chief will be the only three going, your briefing will be the day before. Welcome to active duty, Agent.”

After saying goodby to Cortana, you vacate the room with Chief and Arbiter. “We’re still doing training today,” Chief grumbles. 

“I figured,” you say, as you mock a salute at him. Extra training was worth it to hear an embarrassing story about Chief. Arbiter seemed to share your sentiment, and he mimics your mock salute at Chief too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your Mjolnir suit will be identical to Chief’s, but without the ridges on top of the visor, and a dull silver rather than green.


	9. (6)

You clenched your teeth in nervousness as you rode to the drop point with Chief and Arbiter. You had been able to try out your armor the day before, after the mission briefing, but it still felt strange. 

You were on your way to a major Covenant-owned communications hub on the plant below you. If you could get Cortana in, she could find a way to intercept all messages coming from the station’s particular frequency, as well as several decryption codes, which would be a real time-saver. Your secondary goal was to destroy the base or cripple its operations to make it harder for the Covenant to send and receive messages. 

The Pelican gets into position, and all three of you jump out, you and Chief leaving small craters in the dirt and making the ground shudder with the weight of your armor. You advance towards the installation together, keeping an eye out for any enemies. 

As you get to the main entrance, the guards by the door notice you and start firing. It’s fairly easy to take them out since there’s so few of them. You keep your formation with the others and enter the compound. 

You all move in sync, familiar with each other’s habits from three months of training together. You stopped being nervous at the door, and now you’re hyper-focused on the mission. Chief and Arbiter are silent as well, the only sound being your footsteps on the purple-tinted metal floor. 

You travel at a steady pace through the halls and rooms, clearing each with great precision. All three of your armors are splattered with varying colors of alien blood by the time you make it to the main room. The gaggle of Grunts by the door sees the trio of gore-covered giants of metal and flesh heading towards them and panic. 

Some throw their arms up and run in circles, shouting, “Demons! Heretic!” The others run down the hallway branching off to the right and hide behind the corner, occasionally poking their heads around and shooting. You and Arbiter don’t even waste ammo on the ones still screaming, bashing their skulls in with the butts of your guns, adding to the messes on your armor. Chief smoothly walks towards the last Grunts around the corner and tosses a grenade down the hall. 

There are squeals at the sight of it, but it seems none of them can dive away before it explodes. He pauses to check for movement on his HUD, and when there isn’t any he nods and the three of you proceed to the communication room. 

Chief holds up a hand to halt, and you take positions around the door before Chief presses the panel to open it. Plasma shots come through the door right after it’s opened, and you wait for it to die out a little before swinging into the room. You each take cover as the fire starts up again. The room is lined with Jackals and Grunts, with several Drones flying near the ceiling. 

With a signal from Chief, you and Arbiter begin taking out the cannon fodder on the ground while he finds a vantage point to use his sniper rifle. With you and Arbiter providing visible targets for the Drones, Chief is able to take them down without taking fire from them. Once the room is clear, Chief steps up to the console and plugs Cortana in while you and Arbiter stand guard. You stay silent and watchful as you wait for her to work. 

Cortana has just told you she’s almost done when a Grunt bursts into the room, screeching “There! Demons! Heretic!” He squeals wildly as he’s shoved aside, and you notice he’s covered in scorch marks. He must have survived Chief’s grenade back in the hall and found reinforcements. 

You all find cover again as Brutes, Jackals, and Grunts file into the room. Another fire fight ensues, and eventually you’re left with four Grunts, two Jackals and a Brute. Master Chief picks of one of the Jackals and Grunts with his sniper rifle before turning around to check on Cortana, and Arbiter catches the last three Grunts with a grenade. 

Double-checking to make sure your energy shield is full, you stand up out of your coverage and fire rapidly at the Brute. You manage to draw blood, and he growls in frustration before ducking out of sight. You advance forward quickly when your shield is hit several times by the Jackal. You stumble back, feeling a burning on your chest, and check your shield levels in confusion. Your shields are still operational, so why does it feel like you just got shot? Arbiter takes the opening the Jackal gives him as it fires at you some more, but it takes your shield down before it gets hit. 

You’re even more confused. If your shield is only now down, then how did you get hit a few seconds earlier? The Brute around the corner roars and charges at you while you’re dazed. You bring your weapon up, but it’s too late. He strikes you directly where the Jackal’s shot hit, and you slide backwards and over the cover you were crouching behind earlier. 

Chief spins and shoots the Brute in the shoulder with his rifle, and Arbiter gives a battle cry and drives his energy sword through his chest. You’re still laying on the floor, dazed. You don’t think that hit cracked any ribs, but you’re not sure. 

“Check on her,” Chief grunts as he turns to yank Cortana out of the console. Arbiter is at your side in a second, offering you his hand. You wheeze slightly as you pull yourself up. 

“That shot shouldn’t have made it through,” you gasp. “My shields were still up.” They both hear you over your shared comms, but Chief brushes past you two to take point. 

“Now’s not the time,” he says sternly. “We need to move.”

The Arbiter puts a hand on your back to steady you for a second, then lets you go in front of him. You travel out of the building as fast as possible, doing your best to ignore the warning lights flashing from the self-destruct Cortana ordered. 

You’ve slipped into the rocks nearby the facility before you hear the first explosions. You make your way back to the drop point, now pickup point, in silence. You’re not feeling the full effects of the pain yet, but your chest is starting to throb as your adrenaline fades. You bend over when you make it to the pickup point, with one hand on your knee and the other across your chest. 

You feel shitty, and not just because you got shot then hit in the chest. You got injured on your first mission. You wonder if Chief thinks he made a mistake in passing you for active duty, but he has his back to both you and Arbiter, and his shoulders are tense. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

He only speaks when you see the Pelican in the distance. “Take her to the med bay,” he tells Arbiter. “I’ll take care of the mission debrief myself.”

“Chief,” you start, but he just shakes his head. 

“Not now.” You sigh and obey, getting onto the Pelican with Arbiter following close behind. 

————————————————

The ride back to the ship is tense, and you wonder what Chief is going to say when he comes to lecture you after the debrief. You can tell he’s planning to by the way his arms are crossed and his faceplate is pointed towards you.

He’s off before anyone can say a word to him when you land. There’s a medical team waiting with a stretcher, but you wave them off with irritation. “I’m walking,” you growl. 

They start to protest, but with Arbiter at your back and your intimidating height in your armor, they back off. You sag once you’re in the doors and out of sight of them, and Arbiter makes sure to stay right by your side. 

You’re taken in as soon as you reach the med bay, and Arbiter stops at the door and doesn’t go in. You request that the footage of your mission is sent to you for later review, then stay silent as they strip you out of your armor and examine you. 

————————————————

Chief knows the medical team will have finished looking you over by the time he’s done with the debrief. They had asked him to explain how you got injured, but he hadn’t been looking when it happened. He’d thought you and Arbiter had it under control, so he was glancing at Cortana when he heard the impact and the fall before turning back around to shoot the Brute. They sent someone to ask Arbiter for the details when he noted that Arbiter had witnessed it. After that, it was questions about the architecture of the building, the strength of opposition, and the destruction of the base. 

After he was dismissed, he plugged Cortana back into the ship so she could start going over the data she stole. He was in the process of leaving when he overheard part of the report a tech was giving to the Sergeant Johnson. After hearing your name, he stopped to listen. 

“And you’re sure it was the weak spot in her energy shields that cause it?” The Sergeant was not looking pleased. 

The tech nodded his head, voice slightly shaky, “Yes sir. We went through all the footage, including the shield charge monitor on the HUD. That shot went through the Agent’s shields while they were still half-charged, which most likely caused her confusion and hesitance.”

Sergeant Johnson was looking extremely unhappy. “Were you aware of this anomaly in the armor’s shielding before you sent her out?”

The tech was starting to sweat. “Yessir, but we-ah, we were short on time in constructing the suit, you see, so we didn’t manage to get all the kinks worked out, and-“ Johnson held up a hand. 

“At least tell me you warned the Agent of this issue with the Mjolnir armor before you sent her out in it?” The Sergeant’s eyes were cold, and when the tech opened and closed his mouth, he snapped, “Rokalski!”

The tech, Rokalski, took a deep, trembling breath. “No sir, we didn’t,” he mumbled quietly. “We thought if we told her the mission would be delayed, or canceled, and we didn’t want...”

Sergeant Johnson picked up where Rokalski left off. “Didn’t want everyone to know you jeopardized a mission?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a harsh breath, still angry. “Rokalski, I don’t even have to tell you how completely moronic that plan was. It’s obvious. I just need your assurance that it’ll never happen again.”

Rokalski was starting to look relieved that the unpleasant interaction was almost over. His mistake. “Yes sir,” he said, voice a bit stronger. Johnson seemed unconvinced. He finally noticed Chief behind Rokalski, and a mean smirk fell across his lips as he gestured him closer. 

“Master Chief, do you have anything to add here?” Rokalski turned entirely pale and he began to sweat profusely as he looked up at Chief’s looming figure, clenched fists, and cold golden visor looking down at him. 

Chief leaned down the smallest bit, and Rokalski shrank in on himself. “Don’t do it again.” Rokalski nodded his head frantically, his hands shaking at his side. Johnson waved a hand in dismissal at him and watched as he bolted from the room, satisfied that he’d learned his lesson. 

————————————————

You were situated in a bed in med bay and denying pain medication for the fourth time when Arbiter ducked under the doorway to the room. The nurse at your side quietly squeaked and muttered a small “excuse me,” before fleeing the room. 

You glared at the back of her head and resisted the urge to give her the finger. The Arbiter watched her retreat, a dryly amused expression on his face. He glanced at your spot on the bed and hesitated before coming any closer. You raised an eyebrow and nodded at him in permission, and he made his way next to you. 

You had to crane your neck to look him in the face from your position. “What’re you doing here?” You asked curiously. Arbiter shifts around a bit, stooping and bending his knees before finally crouching down on one knee to make talking easier. 

“I am visiting a wounded comrade,” he says. “Should I not be?” You can’t tell if he’s being a smartass or is confused about human custom, but you decide to go with the latter to err on the side of caution. 

“No, it’s fine,” you sigh. “I just expected you’d have something more important to do than visit a fool who got injured on her first real mission.” You notice his posture relax some, and you’re glad you didn’t wrongly decide he was being a smartass. 

“No,” he says. “You may have been wounded, but I am also here to congratulate you on the success of your first battle.” He makes a foreign gesture and some odd clicking noises and sounds to go with the second statement. 

You furrow you brows and must look puzzled, which clues Arbiter in that what he said didn’t make it past the universal translators. He repeats the gesture more slowly for you to understand. “I am congratulating you on not having your blood spilled in your first battle.” 

“Oh,” you say. “Does bruised ribs not count as spilled blood to your kind?” He gives you an unsure look, as if he doesn’t know if you’re actually interested or just being polite. “Please,” you add. “I’d like to hear about your culture.” You give him an encouraging smile, and he looks surprised, then happy. 

“In my culture, being wounded is seen as a dishonor, however retreat is an even greater dishonor. To be wounded and finish a mission successfully without being further wounded makes it less dishonorable than being wounded and retreating. The worse dishonor is the spilling of one’s own blood. The blood of a warrior is his essence, his honor, so to spill one’s blood is to lose one’s honor. You did not bleed, and you finished the mission without becoming further wounded, so, I congratulate you.” He made sure you were paying attention while speaking, even though you’d expressed your interest. 

“Thank you for the congratulations,” you say. He bows his head slightly and closes his eyes. “And for sharing your culture. It is different from ours, and I like hearing about it.” He opens his eyes and looks startled. 

“Truly?” You don’t get why he is so apprehensive about sharing his culture with you, but then you remember how the nurse reacted towards him, how the other humans on the ship must treat him, and you understand. 

You nod your head firmly. “Truly.” 

He shifts, and sits down with his legs spread out under your bed, getting more comfortable. He leans nearer to you. “Tell me how humans feel about the matter, then. I have only discussed culture differences with the Demon before.”

You readjust your pillows, and as you do, you notice Chief is in the room. He probably slipped in not long after that nurse left. You think about calling him over to join, but you know he prefers to listen more than speak, and he’s probably still trying to cool his temper. You nod a greeting at him, making Arbiter turn around and greet him as well, before turning back to face you. Arbiter has been well aware of Chief’s habits for a while. 

“Well,” you start as you think. “Each human is different in their own views on the matter, but I can tell you those views I know.” At Arbiter’s eager nod, you continue. “Getting your blood spilled isn’t that big a deal amongst most humans, since it’s just viewed as a natural part of life. We bleed, we scar, we move on. Mostly, it’s the scars we pay more attention to than the blood. They hold memories.” After a moment of thought, you pull up your sleeve to show him the ridged lines on your arm and hand. Scars from the augmentations done to you by the Covenant. You wonder if Chief has similar ones. “Bad memories, good memories, or plain stupid memories.” 

“Stupid?” Arbiter asks. “What do you mean?” With a self-deprecating laugh, you finger the scar above your left eyebrow. You sigh as you trace it. 

“I got this one by faceplanting into the edge of a desk in my second year at university,” you explain. “I stayed up all night when I shouldn’t have, fell asleep, and fell right over onto it.” You think you hear Chief snort with amusement from his spot, but Arbiter looks astounded.

“What about good memories?” Arbiter looks interested, if skeptical. “I do not see how losing blood could be related to something good.”

You think how best to explain it for a moment. “Good memories are different for everyone, but I know getting a scar by doing something good for someone else is certain. Like operation scars from donating a kidney, or sharing a liver. Or scars that you get from protecting someone else.” You see Chief’s hand twitch at that last one, but you don’t comment. 

Arbiter looks worried. “What do you mean by ‘sharing’ an internal organ? Humans can do that?” He looks slightly disgusted, too, and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“When a human has a bad liver, they get it taken out, but they might need a new one. The liver can regenerate itself when there’s as little as a fourth of it left. So, someone who’s compatible volunteers, and they take a piece of their liver and give it to the person without one. The donor’s liver grows back, and the recipient’s piece of liver grows into a new one.”

Arbiter looks even more disgusted, yet intrigued at the same time. “There must be humans with very close bonds to do that. In Sangheili culture, we do not often see doctors or surgeons. They cause us to bleed out of battle, which is an even greater dishonor. To be willing to bleed for someone would be unfathomable to most of my kind.”

You wave your hand at him with a grin. “Usually the donor is a stranger who happened to match with the recipient. There are organizations that do nothing but collect and use data on people willing to donate, so that recipients without someone with a deep bond to them, as you put it, have a chance for survival.”

Arbiter shakes his head incredulously. “I am finding this difficult to believe. Humans are very strange indeed.” He looks at you suspiciously. “Surely you jest.” You shake your head with an amused smile on your face, and he turns to Chief. 

“Demon, is the Agent telling the truth?” Chief nods, and Arbiter works his way back up to standing. His brows are furrowed, but you can’t tell what emotion is on his face. Perhaps humans are not as inferior as the Sangheili believe. He shakes himself out of his thoughts, and looks to Chief, who has joined him by your bed. 

“Speak, Demon. I can tell your thoughts are heavy.” He stays silent, and you brace for the lecture you think he’s forming. 

Instead, he quietly asks, “Were you aware your armor wasn’t completely finished?” You blink for a second, trying to register a response for a question you weren’t expecting. 

“Wait, what?” You squint at him, not sure if he’s being serious. “What do you mean it wasn’t finished?”

He pauses, trying to figure out if your confusion is genuine. He decides it is. “The techs left your energy shields unfinished. Left a weakness in them.” 

He seems calm, but you can hear the edge to his voice. You feel bad for whichever tech had to tell him that. Why didn’t anyone tell you? You think back to the mission. Slowly, you nod. It makes sense. “So that’s how I got shot by that Jackal even though my shields were up. If that shot hadn’t gotten through, then that Brute’s blow wouldn’t have affected me.” You pause again as another thought dawns on you. “Wait, they knew? Before the mission? And they didn’t say anything?”

Arbiter is looking at Chief, his gaze unreadable. “That is not an honorable way for the ‘techs’ to treat their Warriors,” he says deliberately. 

Chief’s head tilts, and his left hand clenches into a fist. “Don’t worry,” he says with a tone of restrained satisfaction. “It won’t happen again. I made sure of it.” 

Arbiter gives him a feral grin and makes another alien gesture and more clicking noises. “Good, Demon. I trust the foolish human learned his lesson.” 

“If he didn’t, I’ll let you help him out with that.” Chief’s voice is amused, but there’s a dangerous undercurrent to it. Arbiter looks like he might just take Chief up on that offer. You make a mental note to have Cortana warm the tech about them as soon as they leave. 

————————————————

An hour or two after Chief and Arbiter have said their goodbyes and left, a Junior Technician appears in the doorway of the med bay. He looks very pale and sweaty, and practically shoves a few containers of the faux-chocolate pudding available from the vending machines in the mess hall at you. He stutters out an apology and flees before you can do much more than raise an eyebrow at him. You figure you didn’t tell Cortana soon enough. Or she just chose to let Chief and Arbiter have their fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Covenant call all Spartans ‘Demons’. The Covenant didn’t recognize you as their ‘Agent of Destruction’ because none of them have seen your face.


	10. (7)

You’re in your bed in the med bay, and you’re impatient. You have the same increased rate of healing as Spartans, but you still feel like you’re healing too slow. You heard that Arbiter and Master Chief went on another mission today, so you plan to stay up waiting for them. But the hours tick by and you’re incredibly bored. You try counting beeps from the machines to entertain yourself, but you’re still bored, and the steady beeping is soothing. You decide you’ll take a little rest and wake up when Chief and Arbiter get there. 

When you next wake up, everything is the same as it was when you fell asleep. You wonder what woke you up when you notice the soft wheezing through the beeps. You look around to see Arbiter, legs spread out and back to the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, so you’re sure he’s sleeping, but why is he wheezing? Do all Elites wheeze in their sleep? 

You don’t need to wonder too much why he’s in here with you. You still remember the nurse’s reaction to him yesterday, and you can only imagine how the marines treat him. You’ve been planning to talk to him about that, since you know he’d never tell you how the others treat him if you didn’t ask. 

You scan the rest of the room and see Chief sitting on a metal bench built into the wall. His posture is as relaxed as you’d ever seen, so you assume he must be sleeping too. Their mission must have been exhausting. Your gaze returns to Arbiter as he makes another faint noise in his sleep. You’ve never seen an Elite sleep before, and you watch him with curiosity. But as you watch, you notice his hands are twitching slightly. His mandibles move, and he grasps his chest.

You carefully slide out of the bed you’re in and pad over to him to get a closer look. You think you know what type of dream he’s having. You’ve had them yourself. Your mind traps you in sleep and forces you to relive the moments you’ve felt the most helpless and alone. Cortana popped into your room once while you were dreaming like this and you lunged at her before your eyes were even open. 

You know what he’s likely to do if you wake him up, but his face is scrunched in pain. You glance over at Chief, wondering if you should wake him up to help. You’re still looking at Chief and crouched in front of Arbiter when he wakes up by himself. He gasps something in Sangheili, and when he sees you he grabs you by your throat. Your mind tells you to fight, to get away before more aliens come, but you remind yourself where you are, and who he is. 

He’s not squeezing your neck tight enough to make it impossible to breath yet, but his eyes are narrowed and he’s demanding something in Sangheili. Chief is suddenly beside you, putting a hand on Arbiter’s arm. You both stay calm and wait until he looks at Chief in recognition. He looks around the room, studying it as though he doesn’t know where he is. Then his empty eyes finally focus on you. He jerks back, quickly releasing you. 

You both stay still as he comes fully back to himself. He flexes his mandibles a few times as if to say something then turns his back to you quickly and looks at his hands. Chief has you tilt your head up so he can examine the red imprints in the shape of large fingers on your throat. 

“The bruises won’t last long. A few hours most with how fast you heal,” he mutters to you quietly. 

Arbiter stills completely at that, and your chest aches to see him so upset with himself. “It’s okay Arbiter. I’ll be fine,” you say softly. 

He shakes his head and drops it low in shame. “I hurt you, and almost had to be restrained. You are my ally, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know where you were, or who I was,” you say. When he doesn’t reply, you try a new tactic. “Did you know I still get them too?”

Arbiter looks over his shoulder at you, but still doesn’t turn around. No doubt he’s remembering the time you did something like this, when you first sparred with him. “If Cortana were a human being, I would’ve killed her the last time she tried to wake me up,” you continue. 

“I can second that.”

You weren’t expecting Chief to say anything, and you feel incredibly thankful that he was in here with you. You know he doesn’t like sharing private things, and you don’t think there are words to tell him how much you appreciate him right now. 

The Arbiter had turned back around after Chief’s confession, but he was still looking at the floor. “It was seen as cowardice by the Sangheili Majors in the Covenant. A sign that one is not a true warrior.”

You feel like he’s closing himself off again, so you take a calculated risk and grab his hand. It is far larger than yours, and his four fingers are a foreign feeling. You hold your breath for a moment, hoping he doesn’t think about them around your neck and let go. You feel more pleased than you should when he finally wraps his fingers around your hand. You push that thought to the back of your mind, the task for the moment is comforting Arbiter. “That’s a crock of shit and we all know it.”

He slowly shakes his head. “None of the Sangheili Majors I served under had these waking dreams. Or if they did, they were able to control and hide them. The Sangheili are a race of warriors.”

You can hear Chief take a deep breath, and you’re shocked when he takes Arbiter’s other hand. You’ve never seen him initiate contact like this before, and the appreciation you feel for him willing to push himself out of his comfort zone to aid you in helping Arbiter is almost indescribable. “The Agent and I are warriors, are we not?” His deep baritone sounds strange. 

The Arbiter nods his head solemnly, “Some of the finest I have fought beside.” 

Chief nods his head firmly, “And we get the waking dreams too. They make you no less of a warrior than us.” Arbiter looks at you and Chief then, mulling over your words for several minutes. 

He sighs, long and tired. He pulls his hands up, you and Chief’s still held within, and drops his forehead to them. His skin is scaly and feels leathery, but not unpleasant. You brush your hand lightly against Chief’s. His fingers twitch, then take hold of your hand ever so slightly, like he’s afraid he’ll crush your hand with the power of the suit. You’ve never seen this side of him before, but you feel honored that you do. You grip his hand and close your eyes, feeling calm. A feeling of peace washes over you all, fragile and hopeful, like this stolen moment. 

The Arbiter finally raises his head from your hands, and takes another deep breath before opening his eyes and letting go. You squeeze Chief’s hand once more before it slips from around yours. Chief clears his throat, sounding somewhat shaken. “Would you like to hear about the mission?”

You look at him with so much warmth and gratitude that you don’t need to say how much you appreciate him for stepping out of his comfort zone. He sees it in your face. 

“Only if you take one of the puddings that terrified tech guy gave me,” you tease with a gentle smile. “I’m not sure I want to know what you guys did to him to make him so scared.” 

Arbiter gives you and Chief his own look of gratitude and appreciation, and Chief feels out of his depth. He’s not used to people thanking him. He’s definitely not used to people understanding him well enough to know that thanking him for something like this verbally would make him feel overwhelmed. He doesn’t do well with emotions in any sense, but what you three just shared feels right somehow. 

He chuckles softly. “You don’t wanna know.” Arbiter gives a small smile at that, and he knows he’s doing the right thing. 

He takes a pudding.


	11. (8)

You stepped out from behind the rock you were using as cover just long enough to throw a frag grenade into the group of enemies that had you pinned there. You crouched behind it again, and waited for the bang. Snow and blood splatter the back of the rock as it goes off. You swung back out from your cover and advanced to the rendezvous point to meet Chief and Arbiter. 

You had been released from the med bay less than a week after your injury, and hadn’t had another mission with just you, Chief and Arbiter until now. You’d been in multiple smaller-scale missions before this one, mainly acting as an escort to marines. 

Chief and Arbiter had been in constant demand as well. Even though you were all busy with different missions, you still made time for eating together and sparring. 

This mission was large and important enough to warrant all three of you; the goal was to collapse a major Covenant mining operation on the frozen tundra of a planet you were currently on. The lack of resources would slow the production of weapons and armor. Each of you had gone your separate ways to infiltrate the tunnels and plant remote detonation charges. You were to rendezvous together at a point that had no tunnels running below, in case of collapse. 

No marines were sent along on this mission because of the conditions. All three of your suits of armor had temperature regulation, a necessity because of the low temperature of the planet. The frequent heavy snowfalls put a restraint on pickup abilities as well. If it were snowing bad enough by the time you were finished with your mission, you’d have to wait an indeterminate amount of time for it to clear up enough for the jet to get through. 

It was only lightly snowing for now, but you knew that was likely to change. By the half-filled footprints on the ground, you could tell that Chief and Arbiter had already made their way to the rendezvous point. The multitude of smaller footprints also indicated that they had attracted a party. 

You started hearing shots and yells the closer you got, so you slowed to a cautious pace, wary of Jackal snipers. Your caution was warranted as you dodged a purple plasma beam coming at you. You lifted your weapon and began firing, and your sudden arrival to the raging battle worked in Chief and Arbiter’s favor. 

The snowflakes were falling in groups now, the flakes forming clumps on your armor before melting away. You joined Chief and Arbiter in the scorched clearing they stood in, helping to pick off the last of their reception before turning with them to face the reinforcements that followed you. 

You all fought until there was about a fourth of the reinforcements left. The shooting had died down enough that Chief could pause to set off the charges and prevent more Covenant from coming. By the time the ground had stopped rumbling, the snowfall was heavy and visibility was low. 

There’s only about a dozen Covenant forces left, and you can tell they’re starting to get desperate. You continue thinning their numbers, leaving only three remaining. You can only see the outline of their shapes through the falling snow, but you think it’s two Jackals and a Grunt. 

Arbiter is able to kill one of the Jackals and the Grunt with a well-placed grenade, and the other Jackal runs towards him, shooting rapidly and in a terrified rage. The barrage of shots bursts his energy shield, and in his attempts to dodge the last few, he slips on a patch of ice formed by melted snow and stumbles. He manages to dodge all but the last one, which hits him in the side because of his slip-up. 

With the Jackal close enough to see, Chief bashes it’s shield in with the butt of his gun, killing it instantly with the small explosion. You hurry over to Arbiter as Chief makes sure there’s no more coming. 

Arbiter sits up from where he fell and winces, looking at his side. There’s a scorched circle with a hole in the center on his armor, and he feels bruised. But there’s no blood, and his shields are still capable of reforming. 

“Are you okay?” You offer a hand to help him to his feet. He takes it and levers himself to his feet, keeping one hand over the hole. His skin feels slightly burned, but the sting is already lessening. 

“I am fine,” he says. Chief approaches and has Arbiter move his hand from his side to take a look. 

“Your armor is compromised,” he notes. “Is your temperature regulation still working?” Arbiter pauses. He had not thought of that. He pays attention, and realizes he can feel a slight chill against his skin where the armor doesn’t fully cover it. 

“I believe it is still working in a partial capacity,” he admits. You and Chief share a glance. If his temperature regulation isn’t fully operational, you need to find shelter. You both could survive this weather without full temperature regulation, but Arbiter is reptilian; reptiles don’t exactly have biological thermoregulation. A fraction of this cold could kill him if he were exposed long enough. 

“I’ve already called for pickup,” Chief says. “They said they’ll be here in about forty five minutes.” That’s too long for Arbiter to be able to withstand the cold and snow out in the open. Chief and you look at each other in a silent conversation. 

Arbiter looks at you two in confusion. Finally, you nod. “I’ll go look for shelter,” you tell Chief. Arbiter looks annoyed, starts to protest that his temperature regulation isn’t destroyed, just damaged. You leave Chief to explain your shared worries to him as you go off to find someplace sheltered from the snow and wind. 

————————————————

It takes longer than it should to convince Arbiter to take shelter. You have a feeling he is prickly from being hit and doesn’t want to be seen as weak. You manage to finally convince him by arguing that not standing in heavy snowfall would be better on your gear anyway. 

You bring him and Chief to the small cave you found, and you and Chief make him sit in the back while you do your best to make a snow wall to block the wind. Once you’re done, you sit down together, facing each other. There’s comfortable silence, and Arbiter only sulks a little. 

After maybe five minutes, Arbiter starts shivering a little, although he tries to hide it. You let him be stubborn for now, and make sure to keep an eye on him. 

Another few minutes, and he’s shivering more violently. You sigh, wishing you could help Arbiter but knowing he won’t let you. The minutes tick by at a glacial pace, and when Arbiter starts drooping you and Chief decide he’s done being stubborn. 

You get up and crouch down next to him. “Arbiter, enough is enough. You’re going to let us help you.” He doesn’t respond, and you notice his eyes are closed. He’s starting to doze. You look over at Chief, hoping he can detect your worry. 

“Reptilians hibernate when they get cold. If we let him fall asleep now, we won’t be able to get him to the pickup spot, let alone on the ship,” Chief says. He knows you both are strong enough to carry him together, but with the snow getting deep and Arbiter’s size it would be difficult. 

You shake Arbiter’s shoulder, and he opens his eyes for a few seconds to mumble something in his native tongue before shutting them again. Once Arbiter goes into hibernation, his body functions would slow and he’d eventually freeze to death. Any fuel for a fire would be wet from the snow, and there’s no way you can manage to fix his suit’s temperature regulation. 

There’s only one other thing you can think of, that humans do to treat someone with hypothermia before better help arrives. So far, it’s your only choice. 

“I can only think of one thing to do,” you tell Chief. He nods slightly, and you know he’s thinking of the same thing you are. “I’ll do it if you don’t want to take off your armor.”

Chief is tempted to take your offer, which he knows you only made because he doesn’t like to take his armor off. But Arbiter is too long, and his torso is too wide. He knows it’ll only work if both of you help him. 

“No,” he says. “It’ll take both of us.” He joins you at Arbiter’s side. “Let’s start taking his armor off.”

Together, you work on taking off Arbiter’s armor. You get his helm and arms done, and are working at his torso when he wakes again from the movement. His eyes are unfocused, and he glances around blearily before he hears the click from his chest plate being removed. 

“What are you doing?” Arbiter tries to shout, but it only comes out as mild indignation. He weakly struggles, but his bodysuit and armor plates are already off of his arms, head, and torso.

You gesture at Chief to keep going, and take off your helmet. There’s a hiss as the seal on your suit is broken, and your breath is visible in the air. Arbiter is looking at you in surprise. None of you have ever removed your armor on a mission before. You free one of your arms from your armor and body suit, wincing as your bare skin meets the air. 

Arbiter is already dozing off again, so you place your hand on his face and his eyes jerk open at the warmth of your hand. “We’re going to warm you up, Arbiter.” You remove your hand and start working on the rest of your armor, and Arbiter looks confused. 

“You have no fire, and your armor will not fit me. What are you doing?” He asks again. By this time, Arbiter’s armor is off and Chief is starting to remove his own. You’ve almost stripped completely out of your armor and underlining bodysuit, and goosebumps are starting to rise on your skin. 

You place your hands on either side of his mandibles to help keep him awake enough to listen. “When a human is freezing, other humans can bring their body temperature back up by sharing their warmth. But it has to be skin-to-skin contact,” you explain. 

Chief leaves his helmet on to monitor the time until pickup, but besides that, you and he are now in nothing but the skin tight tank top and shorts that you wear underneath your bodysuit and armor. Chief is the palest person you’ve ever seen, and you notice lines of scars along his extremities from his augmentations. You were right, they do look similar to your own. 

You think through the possible ways of doing this, and the one that would have the most skin-to-skin contact would be laying down together. You guide Arbiter to lay on his side on the floor, and as you do so you notice a patterned scar on the left side of his chest. It’s deep, and looks like something in an alien language has been branded on him. 

It’s not for you to ask about, and you don’t comment. You lay down on the floor in front of him, and tentatively press yourself against him. He gasps at the burning warmth of your skin against his and reflexively puts his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. 

His eyes widen as he realizes what he just did, and he starts to loosen them before you stop him. Chief lays behind Arbiter and presses himself into his back. Arbiter closes his eyes and makes a pleased chittering noise at the warmth surrounding him. 

You reach up and press your hands against his face again to warm it. Chief shifts, getting more comfortable and presses his legs against Arbiter’s. You do the same, and Arbiter relishes all of the sudden warmth around him. 

“We have twenty-five minutes until pickup arrives,” Chief says. “We’ll start putting our armor back on when there’s five.” You all stay silent as the minutes begin to slip by. No one feels too awkward, because you all know that you’re doing this for Arbiter’s survival. 

As Arbiter warms up, his mind stops feeling so sluggish and he’s beginning to think clearly again. He should have guessed that humans would have figured out a way to share body heat. They had already figured out how to share organs, a thought that still disgusted him a bit. 

His mind mainly focuses on how warm he is now, when he was cold enough to slip into a deep sleep a few minutes ago. His people know about their hibernation habits in theory, but it has never been regularly observed before. His homeworld is hot and dry, and there has never been snow. 

His mind is still on his homeworld and the fulfilling heat of the twin suns there when he feels you shiver for the first time. He opens his eyes and peers down at you, but you just give him an encouraging smile.

As more time passes, your shivering becomes regular, but not violent. Not long after that, he feels faint tremors from Chief, and can only assume he’s beginning to shiver too. When he looks down again, he notices that your lips have a faint purple tint to them. 

He realizes that you and Chief weren’t just sharing your body heat with him, you were sacrificing it for him. You both had exposed yourself to the weather and the danger in order to help him. You’d done it even though he was too prideful to ask for your help or listen to your concerns. 

Arbiter gets a strange feeling in his chest, one he cannot fully identify. The only feeling he can be certain of is a feeling of protectiveness. He’s always felt protective of his allies. His Minors and his platoons, and even the marines. But this feels different, and he knows he will need time to sort it out. 

The time to do that is not now. Your lips are more blue than purple now, you’re shuddering violently, and Chief is now shivering regularly. Chief has not yet given the five minute mark, but the Arbiter decides he will not let you become anymore chilled for his sake. 

“I am warm enough. You may put your armor back on,” he says. You don’t say anything, just shake your head and continue chattering your teeth. 

“It’s not time yet,” Chief’s low rumble vibrates against Arbiter’s back. “There’s nine minutes left.”

Arbiter makes clicking noises and sounds annoyed as he begins detangling himself from you both. “And I will be fine for those nine minutes. I refuse to let you two freeze anymore for my sake.” 

He sits up and looks sternly at you both, showing that he won’t take any sort of argument. You see Chief shivering with goosebumps along his arms as he notes the color of your lips and your shivers. Not wanting each other to get more cold, you reply at the same time, “fine.” 

All three of you begin putting your armor on, and Chief helps you with yours when your fingers start shaking too much to do the clasps. Arbiter gets his on the fastest, now being the warmest one in the cave and almost fully recovered. You sigh in contentment as you click your helmet into place and your suit starts heating up to bring you back to normal. 

Putting your armor on took longer for you and Chief due to your shivering, so seven minutes are up before you leave the cave. You work your way through the snow wall you’d built at the entrance and begin making your way to the pickup point through the knee-deep snow. 

You stop when you get there, but you know the jet isn’t far out since you can hear it. The snow is only lightly falling now, and Arbiter takes the moment to thank you two. 

He kneels on one knee, holds a hand to his chest, and says something in Sangheili. You and Chief look at each other before looking at him, and he translates. 

“There is no direct translation for what I said in Sangheili, but I will do my best. I said that you have proved yourself honorable in my eyes and the eyes of any Sangheili who learns of this event. That honor is reserved for the smallest fraction of outsiders in our race. I thank you for saving my life.”

The jet is within sight now, so there’s not time for either you or Chief to unpack all of that. Instead, Chief offers a hand to Arbiter and pulls him back to his feet, and you place your hand on his arm. 

“You owe us nothing,” you say. 

“Allies protect each other,” Chief adds. 

Arbiter bows his head, and you all turn to meet the landing jet.


	12. (9)

Arbiter makes his way back to his quarters, wrapped in a blanket. He thinks he looks ridiculous, and his suspicions are confirmed by the passing stares he gets. His main chest plate is missing, as the human techs had promised to ‘weld’ the hole in it for him. 

He had tried to remain in the room with it, but you had crossed your arms over your chest and demanded that he rest. He had felt like snapping at you, denying he was in a weakened state, but he had held his tongue. Thankfully so, as he remembered how human culture is different than his in regards to wounds and weakness. 

Your were not pointing out any dishonor, you were concerned for his wellbeing. He tried to argue the point, nonetheless. With his chest plate off, he felt vulnerable. His bodysuit covered the Mark of Shame, but he knew you and Chief had already seen it. Neither you nor Chief had asked about it, for which he was grateful. Arbiter knew the Mark no longer held sway over him, as he had renounced his former Covenant masters. But he felt it was on display even though he knew for sure that it was covered. 

Chief had disappeared while you and Arbiter were arguing, only to reappear at his side holding a bundle of cloth. Arbiter had hoped to appease to the Demon, but he had just shaken his head. 

“Go rest,” he had ordered. The Arbiter had hesitated still, not willing to leave the room so exposed. Chief had somehow understood that, for he had unfolded a rectangular piece of cloth he had called a ‘blanket’. It’s purpose was to help keep humans warm, and it would be only logical for him to have it after almost freezing. You and Chief helped him drape it over himself in a way that completely covered where the Mark was. 

You had both understood him on a deep level without even having to speak. He admired both of your restraint as well. You didn’t even drop a hint about wanting to know about the Mark. Arbiter felt that feeling again, the strange one. Admitting internally that he needed time for contemplation, he acquiesced to your demands. 

Now here he was, finally back in his quarters and its privacy. He thought about removing the blanket, but it was warm. He still needed to get his core temperature stabilized. If he were home, he’d find a spot in the suns to lay. 

Instead, he called out to Cortana. “Construct, may I request you increase the temperature in my quarters?” In response, the vents along the walls clicked on and warm, dry air flowed into the room. 

“Anything else?” Cortana was not manifested in the room, and her voice came from the speakers set into the ceiling. Arbiter paused. If anyone could help him understand his inner conflict, it would be a construct with the entire wealth of human knowledge. 

“Yes,” he spoke slowly. “I have some questions about human culture and...feelings.” Now intrigued, Cortana manifested herself in the room, casting a blue light over everything. 

“Why don’t you just ask Chief or the Agent?” Her tone was teasing, but Arbiter remained serious. 

“They are the cause of these feelings.”

Cortana did a double take, then grinned mischievously. “I see. Good feelings or bad feelings?”

“Good,” Arbiter decided. “But I find them confusing.”

“How so?” Cortana already knew what this was about. When she was plugged into the ship, she could see everyone’s body language and vitals. Chief, Arbiter, and your vitals changed in a telling way when you were around each other. 

“I have long since seen the Agent and Demon as allies,” he started. “But after they saved my life today, I’ve noticed that I feel differently about them than any other ally. And while they were sacrificing their body heat to keep me warm, it felt different than the other times they have saved my life. I do not know the word to describe it.”

“Hmm...I think the word you’re looking for is ‘intimate’.” Cortana had seen the way Chief reacted to the contact. He was rarely touched outside of his armor, and when he was it was to patch up an injury. She’d teased him so much on the ride back to the ship that one of the first things he’d done was plug her back into the ship. Luckily, Arbiter seemed less emotionally constipated than Chief. 

Arbiter blinked with confusion. “That word does not translate,” he said. That would explain why he couldn’t think of a word for that. Cortana decided the rest of this conversation would go better if they spoke in his native language. Less chance of miscommunication. 

Arbiter was surprised when Cortana suddenly started speaking in Sangheili. “‘Intimate’ is a human word associated with sharing a deep bond. A bond deeper than friendship or camaraderie.”

“The only bond deeper than friendship and camaraderie in my culture is that of family or mates.” The Arbiter didn’t think the feeling was familial, and it certainly couldn’t be a mating bond. In his culture, males and females only mate to produce children. 

“Humans have a different bond, a romantic one. It means that they care for each other in the same way as mates do, just without the mating. Humans divide mating bonds into romantic attraction and sexual attraction.” As Cortana was speaking, she sent several different documents and examples of human relationships to the data pad in Arbiter’s room. “I have sent you educational material on the matter. I suggest you familiarize yourself with human culture in these regards.” 

Arbiter picked up the tablet, and began reading. Cortana waited patiently for him to finish reading. She suspected he’d have more questions when he was done, and she was right.

Arbiter carefully put the tablet down, thinking deeply. “It seems that I feel for the Agent and Master Chief in a...romantic capacity.”

Cotana nodded. She’d already inferred that. “From what I can tell, they feel the same about you, and each other.”

Arbiter couldn’t believe it. He was a Sangheili, an outsider to humans. He was personally responsible for the deaths of hundreds of humans. He and Master Chief had been enemies once. He paused in his thoughts. When had he started referring to the Demon as Master Chief? 

“You know, there is a recorded history of humans being attracted to aliens.” That got Arbiter’s attention. ”It’s true,” Cortana said. “Humans have proven to be attracted to alien physiology, culture, and personality. And while it is still seen as somewhat unusual, human society as a whole have accepted multiple-partner relationships.”

Arbiter though back to the infirmary, and the peace of being with you and Chief, both of you with your hands in his, grounding him. If what the Construct Cortana says is true, then he could have a chance to feel that again. To have you and Chief safe with him, feeling at peace.

“I will not make any advances toward them until I am certain they feel the same way,” Arbiter decided. “In my culture, relationships are serious, and often last a lifetime.” He felt anxious again. “I do not know how other Sangheili would feel about this sort of relationship.”

It wasn’t the multiple partners he was worried about. In Sangheili culture, it was common for Sangheili to mate with multiple partners and have multiple marriages to further their bloodline. Swordsmen like himself were especially encouraged to spread their genes, although they did not marry. But to have something close to a mating bond with humans would be frowned upon. Arbiter hoped his species’ view on humans would change through being allies. He was coming to find they were not as inferior as they’d thought. 

“If my projections are correct, human-Sangheili relations will improve drastically over the next five years. You shouldn’t worry.” Cortana gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Construct...Cortana.” Arbiter had still had a lot to contemplate. 

“You’re welcome, Arbiter.” Cortana ‘left’ the room and Arbiter to his thoughts.

Time to go have fun teasing Chief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be on hold until I finish the current series I’m working on: The Arbiter, the Medic, and Inter-Species Relationships.


End file.
